


Waiting

by Sookiestark



Series: Ghost Stories of Westeros [8]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Ghosts, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-01
Updated: 2017-11-01
Packaged: 2019-01-28 04:21:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12598012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sookiestark/pseuds/Sookiestark
Summary: There are many ghosts in the Red Keep but Daenerys wants to speak to a certain one....





	Waiting

Daenerys had heard stories of ghosts haunting the Red Keep. From the minute, she came to live here. There was Viserys in the yard and Jaehaera and Tommen on the stones, flying from the windows. There was a white lady that drifted around the Tower of the Hand, a girl wailing by the sea for her lost child, and the wall, in one of the lower kitchens, that would bleed sometimes. There was an angry poltergeist who some said was someone Maegor tortured who would throw rocks and punch lazy household staff on the back stairs.

It is what gives her the idea, surrounded by the ghosts and spirits of the dead. 

She hires witches, septons, prophets, maesters, and psychics. They come as far away as the shadowlands and as close as Flea Bottom. Some are liars and charlatans, but some are the real thing with the whispers of the dead hovering about them like flies in the heat. They hold seances and services. She drinks potions, blood of goats and sheep, of flowers and oil. He never comes.

Viserys, son of Aenys, came broken from torture, crying to a mother long dead why she didn’t come back for him when she heard him scream. Brandon Stark, Ser Toyne, Bethany Bracken, Larys Strong, Alicent Hightower, even the Mad King, her father, all came when the sorcerers called them up. One night, she had fourteen spirits come when the drunk woman from Flea Bottom, who said she could speak to the dead, called for those who needed to speak. None were him.

In her quiet voice, she had thanked the woman and paid her in wine, asked her to gently lay them to rest, to tell them whatever kept them here was long gone, long forgotten. Now, they could rest.  
He never comes.

She starts to think what he told her all those years ago he meant, that he would not return a second time. Not for her or Arya, or a Kingdom, or Seven. Not even to see their son. That the next time he closed his eyes in deathly repose, he would not wake again. He would not come.

He never does.


End file.
